


Aspectus

by luna_libertatis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Film Noir, Gen, Zine: Lucian Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_libertatis/pseuds/luna_libertatis
Summary: Prince Noctis is missing –-presumed kidnapped-- and Gladiolus follows the trail of clues to find him. But all is not as it seems at first glance, and the truth is more complex than he realizes...(Originally written for theLucian Nights: FFXV Film Noir Zine, slightly expanded for AO3.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Aspectus

* * *

Prince Noctis sat slumped in a booth in Café Aspectus, the two Glaive that stood guarding the exits as constant a presence as the dark circles under his eyes. 

“No Gladiolus today?” the café owner asked as he slid a plated pastry onto the table.

Noct shook his head as he took a bite. Usually he would offer some small critique on the flavor, and the owner awaited the verdict.

“This is it, Specs.” 

“This…” he paused, glancing over at the Glaive. “...are you certain?” 

Noct pushed some crumbs around with his finger, mashing them into the white paper doily printed with the café logo: a flaming eye within a triangle. “Yeah. This is it.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll have to send word to Lou for some more ulwaat berries before I can make more. It may be a couple of weeks before they're ready for you.”

Noctis looked up with a weak smile. "Thanks, Specs."

***

Gladio was halfway through six weeks of mandated medical leave, and he was crawling the walls. He’d stopped an attack on the Prince, and had a new scar down the side of his face to show for it, but at least Noct walked away without a scratch. With no other official retainers, the Prince was being guarded by the Kingsglaive until his Shield could return to active service. But the buzz around the Citadel was that a member of the Glaive had just gone AWOL, and now Gladio was worried. Everything just felt off.

He jumped as the phone rang, and answered it before the second ring. “Amicitia.”

“We have a situation,” Cor was never one to mince words, “The Prince is missing.”

It was only his years of training that allowed Gladio to push through the panic rising in his gut. “What do we know?”

“Security detail last had eyes on him near the gardens. No trace after that; we’re thinking he was warped out.”

“The Glaive that deserted? Ulric?” 

“Possibly. The city is on lockdown, but they may have made it out already. And there’s something else,” Cor paused. “Prompto Argentum is also missing...”

“…and they’re attached at the hip,” Gladio grunted as he made for the door. “I’ll head over to their school, see if there’s anything there I can find before I come in.”

"Understood."

***

At the high school, Gladio wasn’t surprised to see that Noct’s locker was practically bare while Prompto’s was wallpapered with dozens of snapshots: mostly selfies with Noct, shots from their field trip to the chocobo ranch, and cityscapes of Insomnia. Prompto’s locker also contained two things of particular note to Gladio: the first were some newspaper clippings of ads for used cars. Maybe not so unusual for a teenager to want to buy a car, but Prompto had never brought up wanting one before. And Prompto was not one to keep his thoughts to himself. The second item that caught Gladio's eye was a pawn shop ticket... 

***

As soon as Gladio strode into the pawn shop, Dino Ghiranze raised his hands: “I don’t want no trouble.”

“Not here for trouble,” Gladio growled, “just information. I’m with the Crownsguard.” He slapped a photograph down onto the counter, taken from Prompto's locker, and tapped his finger on Prompto’s grinning face. “You remember this kid? 

“Yeah...sure! Sure I do! Hang on a sec,” Dino rifled around under the counter and pulled out a small paper bag. “I actually haven't had a chance to put his stuff out yet." Dino reached into the bag and pulled out a gold-and-diamond hair comb and a brooch bearing the emblem of a winged unicorn, setting them on the counter. "Kid said he needed to buy some wheels,” Dino provided, helpfully.

Gladio picked up the jewelry and examined it. He had assumed that Prompto pawned his camera, but these were expensive, custom jewelry pieces. He knew that Prompto's family wasn't that well off; there was just no way he could have gotten his hands on them on his own.

"Sooo…" Dino drawled, "...Crownsguard, huh? What? Kid steal ‘em from the Royal treasury or something? Because I want to just state for the record that I did not _knowingly_ accept stolen...”

Dino's voice faded into the background as Gladio's eye fell on the bag the jewelry had been in. The unassuming paper bag, with the logo of a flaming eye inside a triangle printed on it. Cutting off Dino's diatribe, he asked: “Did the kid bring them in in this bag?”

Dino nodded as Gladio crushed the bag in his fist and ran out of the shop.

He knew, now, who was behind this.

***

Café Aspectus was closed for the night, but Gladio knew that the owner ––skinny guy, glasses–– lived in an apartment above it. He knocked, and soon as the door opened a crack he shouldered it open and pushed inside, grabbing a fistful of Scientia’s shirt front. 

“Where is he?!” Gladio slammed him into the wall, sending the man’s glasses flying. “What did you do to him?”

“_For_ him,” Ignis wheezed, not bothering to claim he didn't know what Gladio was talking about, “I do things _for_ him.”

Gladio punched him square in the jaw, and Ignis crumpled to the floor. 

***

Ignis woke with a groan. He found himself at his kitchen table, handcuffed to a chair, with Gladiolus Amicitia watching him from across the room.

“Well, this is charming,” Ignis shook his wrists, rattling the cuffs. “Are these mine?”

“Where is Prince Noctis?”

“No beating around the bush, then. He's safe. The plan is actually for us to go meet him.” Ignis thrust his chin toward the living room, wincing. “While we discuss the particulars, you can find some club soda on the bar.” 

Gladio scoffed. “You think I’m makin’ you a drink?”

Ignis smiled slightly, then grunted and probed at the cut on his lip with the tip of his tongue. “I think I see some of my blood on your shirt cuff. That stain will set.” 

Gladio tossed the crumpled paper bag onto the table. “Well, here’s what _I_ think. _I_ think that you gave stolen goods to Prompto Argentum to pawn for the money to buy a getaway car.”

“_Donated_ goods. Not stolen. And it was the best option: no one would think it strange for a teenage boy to suddenly buy a used car, but Prompto and I both have next to nothing, and Noct’s finances are strictly monitored.”

“What does _that_ matter?"

Ignis sighed. “Gladiolus. Just think about it for a moment: do you honestly think that _Prompto_ would do anything to hurt Noct?"

"Up until about half an hour ago I would have said 'not a chance.'"

"Fine, put it another way: do you think that there is anything Prompto _wouldn’t_ do if Noct asked him to?”

Gladio sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, trying to put all the pieces together in a way that made sense. “You're saying Noct asked Prompto to buy the car that he was kidnapped in?"

Ignis blinked at him slowly, quirked a brow, and remained silent.

Gladio leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're saying Noct ran?” 

"There it is."

“Bull. If something going on was so bad to where he wanted to run away, he would have come to me.”

“He was about to, but some of his messages were intercepted a few weeks ago and, because of that, _you_ got hurt.”

"The attack?" Gladio touched his scar. “Some drunk took a swipe at Noct, I just got hit when I stepped in to stop it.”

Ignis shook his head. “It was a message to Noct that he was being watched. To remind him to 'behave himself' by demonstrating how easy it would be to kill you and have it look like you intercepted an assassin intended for him." Gladio looked at Ignis, wide-eyed, as he continued, "It was the attack on you that was the final straw, you know. It made Noct give me the go-ahead to proceed with the plan. By leaving you out 'til the end he was trying to protect you.”

“He doesn't need to protect me. _I’m_ the Shield.”

“Well, you can take it up with your Prince in a day or two. I was going to go by your apartment tomorrow morning to collect you, but you, ah, _beat_ me to it,” Ignis chuckled.

“How did you even get involved in all this? ”

“One could say it’s a matter of blood,” Ignis smiled. “But unless you’re planning on charging me for a crime you know wasn’t committed, I suggest we make our exit.” He rattled the handcuffs again. Pointedly.

***

Gladio insisted on driving. He still wasn’t 100% sure this wasn’t an elaborate trap, and he wanted to maintain as much control over the situation as he could. He told Ignis to get the first aid kit out of the glove box and use the potion in it before they left; a man with a split lip and a bruise covering half his jaw wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Gladio's credentials let them pass easily through the West Gate, despite the city-wide lockdown, and once out of Insomnia Ignis directed him to head towards Galdin Quay.

“They're waiting there?”

“No, I’ve instructed Noct to drive straight through to Lestallum. There’s a festival going on up there and everyone’s in costume, it'll be a good place for us all to hide for a few days. We’ll rendezvous with them tomorrow; better to stagger our arrivals and try to draw less attention.”

“So, what’s at Galdin Quay?”

“A shower and bed for the night, for one thing. But more importantly, Lou is passing through with some supplies that we'll need.”

“Lou?”

“An old friend of Noct’s. Lou is the one who came across the information that instigated this escape plan, actually, while looking into the history of the Caelums. Turns out there's one or two of the skeletons in _that_ closet that are still alive and kicking,” Ignis grimaced. “It came to light that there are interested parties, both in Lucis and in the Empire, who want to see Noct fulfill a rather macabre ‘destiny,' they have in mind. He wants to choose his own, rather than being led down the garden path, as it were.” 

"So he doesn't want to be King?"

Ignis paused for a moment. When he continued, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You would describe your role of Shield to Noctis as your duty, yes?" 

"Yes..."

"Well, there is a difference between 'duty' and 'destiny.'"

Gladio got the feeling that was all he was going to get out of Ignis on the matter. He sighed; better to talk it over with Noct, anyway. “So, how do you know Noct?”

“We first met as children. I opened the café in Insomnia a few years back, but I was raised in Tenebrae, and I was still living there when the royal party encamped after Noctis was injured. I actually believe that I was part of the _reason_ the royal party came to Tenabrae..."

Gladio raised a curious eyebrow at that statement and glanced over at Ignis, who was tugging his shirt hem out of his trousers as he continued: "As you no doubt know, potions can only do so much when it comes to severe injuries: they can heal lacerations, but they can't regrow an organ, for example." Gladio grunted in agreement.

Ignis leaned forward, holding up the back of his shirt. "Well, I believe the term the doctors used to describe the state of Noct's kidneys after the attack was ‘_shredded.'" _Gladio glanced over to see Ignis' fingers tracing over a thin, neat, surgical scar on his lower back. “Of course they already knew that it was likely I would be a match," Ignis sat up and started to tuck in his shirt again. "And, even then...I knew that I'd do anything to save him.” 

***

When they arrived at Galdin Quay, Gladio sat at the bar while Ignis went to arrange their room and clean up a bit. He said they could expect a call from Noct sometime in the next couple of hours, once he and Prompto were settled into the hotel in Lestallum, which settled some of Gladio's anxiety but also made the minutes seem to crawl. Lost in thought over everything he'd learned in the last few hours, Gladio glanced up with surprise when the bartender set a tumbler down in front of him, half full of a deep blue liquor. She dropped in a golden, trident-shaped, swizzle stick.

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t order this?”

The bartender just smiled, her eyes closed, and touched the rim of the glass with one manicured fingertip. Frost bloomed across the surface of the glass while Gladio gaped. 

“Thank you, ’Ana," said a feminine voice behind him, as a delicate hand reached out for the drink. Stepping up to the bar was pretty blonde woman wearing a tightly-cinched trench coat and a blue silk scarf. Her hair was up in a ponytail, accented by some small braids with beaded accents, similar to those Gladio had seen on some of his friends from Galahd. She took a sip of the drink and set it back down before turning to him and smiling warmly. “And good evening to you, Mr. Amicitia.”

Instinctively, he put on a charming smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

She laughed. “That's true! Forgive me, I’ve just heard so much about you…” she reached into her trench coat and pulled out a thick envelope that she set on the bar, "...from our mutual friend, Mr. Gar." When Gladio looked baffled she continued, gesturing at her bangs: “Dark hair…a bit drowsy…”

Gladio caught on. “Riiight. ‘Mr. Gar.’ A real prince of a guy.”

She laughed again, and slid the envelope over to Gladio. He looked down at it, then startled when he felt her hand on his brow, lightly touching his scar. “I am so sorry this happened," her eyes were full of warm sympathy as she cupped his cheek, "but I am so glad to know he has you.” She pulled her hand away. “I wish I could stay long enough to say hello to Ignis, but our ship is about to sail.” She picked up her drink and tilted it in a subtle salute. "For Hearth and Home," she said before finishing it in one smooth swallow. "Until next time, Mr. Amicitia." 

She strode out of the bar, heels clicking, and Gladio turned to watch as she was approached by a familiar-looking, dark-haired man who offered her his arm as they walked off together towards the dock. Gladio turned back to the bar, shook his head, and smiled. “Yeah. See you ‘round, ‘Lou,'” he chuckled.

A few minutes later, Ignis joined him at the bar and signaled to the bartender to order drinks for the both of them. The bartender, Gladio noted with some confusion, was now a blonde man. There must have been a shift change he didn't notice.

“Ah, too bad I missed her,” Ignis sighed wistfully as he poked at the gold trident swizzle stick in the empty glass, sitting in a puddle from where the frost had all melted away. Ignis reached out for the envelope that she'd left behind and opened it, showing Gladio the contents: four white, leather-bound booklets, embossed with a golden, winged unicorn.

“Tenebraen passports?”

Ignis nodded. “All bearing the seal of the Imperial High Commander, which will make travel through Imperial-controlled territories _much_ easier.”

"Sounds like you have quite the itinerary planned."

"Indeed. It's a long road ahead, but I have faith that the four of us will be able to manage it," Ignis lifted his glass. “Here’s to safe travels, a bright future, and…to new friendships.”

Gladio smiled and clinked their glasses together. “To new friendships.”


End file.
